The Shone Light
by donutsweeper
Summary: Every once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right. Or, Sam learns something he never expected.


"You gonna eat that?"

Now that they were on the road together, doing the family business again after so many years apart, it was a question Sam was suddenly hearing over and over again. It didn't matter if it was leftover fries, three bites of a burger, an extra dinner roll or the limpest, overcooked carrots this side of the Mississippi. If Sam left food on his plate, Dean would make some sort of comment about it. It was _annoying_ and it happened all the damn time.

To be fair, half the shit Dean did was annoying, but this particular quirk of his? It got old. Fast.

Why the hell should Dean care if Sam left some soggy, tasteless crap on his plate? It wasn't like Dean could still be hungry, and if he was? Most of the time they were in a diner when Dean did it, he could order his own damn food. Whatever he wanted. And it'd be hot and fresh, not cold and congealed. Sam seriously did not understand his brother at all anymore.

Then came the time they were in some small, podunk little place way the hell off the highway. They'd just finished, both the case they'd come there for earlier that day and the meal a few minutes ago, when three kids walked in. The oldest was maybe ten or eleven and he was carefully herding the two littler ones, a boy of about seven and a girl who couldn't have been older than four, to the first open booth. Sam wouldn't have given them a second glance except for the way Dean froze when he saw them and then kept staring, like he couldn't make himself look away.

After the two youngest had climbed up and taken their seats, the older boy dug into his pockets and pulled out a small handful of crumpled bills and began counting them. Sam couldn't tell, but he was pretty sure they were all ones. "Tommy, can we get grilled cheese?" the other boy asked.

"Grill cheese!" the girl shouted. "Grill cheese!"

Tommy looked at the children's menu quickly and then back at the money, bit his lip and said, "Yeah, yeah. You two and your grilled cheese. Fine."

The waitress came over then. "And what can I get you kids today?" she asked, plunking down crayons and coloring sheets in front of each of the kids.

"A grilled cheese with a side of fries for them to share," Tommy said, gesturing to his siblings with a jut of his chin, "and waters all around."

"White, wheat or rye?"

"White, please."

"Be ready in a couple of minutes." The waitress gave the kids a quick, tired smile, and headed back into the kitchen.

"What about you, Tommy?" the younger brother asked, without looking up from his coloring. "Aren't you gunna get something to eat?"

If Tommy answered whatever he said was drowned out by Dean, who pulled his chair out with a clatter and then he threw the money for their meal on the table with a flourish. "Come on, Sam, we're burning daylight," Dean said, his voice gruff and low the way it got when he was trying not to let something get to him. Emotions were never his forte and Sam knew better than to make an issue of it. "Let's hit the road." He waited for Sam to stand and then began pushing him to the door.

Dean walked past Tommy's table, but then stopped and bent to pick something off the ground. Or, at least pretended to. "Hey, kid, I think you dropped this," he said as he tossed a ten dollar bill on their table.

Tommy's eyes were wide and he stared down at the money, obviously wanting to take it, but he stopped himself and shook his head. "No, I. I didn't."

"Well, it's not mine and the floor sure as hell doesn't want it." Dean shrugged, pushed it a little closer to the kid. "You may as well take it," he added, before heading over to where Sam was waiting, holding the door for him. Dean didn't look back, but Sam watched as Tommy picked up the ten in both hands and just kind of stared at it, like he couldn't believe it was real.

Once the door was shut, and that little bit of drama behind them, Sam caught up to Dean in the parking lot. "That was nice, what you did in there."

Dean just gave a half shrug and mumbled something that might have been, "Yeah, well," or something like that but he'd separated from Sam to walk around the Impala so he was far away enough that Sam couldn't be sure.

"Why'd you just give him a ten though? Why not a twenty? I mean, we're not flush or anything, but we can spare it and obviously they could use it."

"Nah, it'd have been too much. Anything more than that and he wouldn't have taken it," Dean said, looking down as he dug in his pocket for the keys. "I know I wouldn't've."

Sam caught himself before he blurted out any kind of response to that. Because. What the hell was he going to say? He knew there'd been some times when he hadn't been allowed to order any sides, no matter how much he'd wanted the French fries or Dad flat out telling him they didn't have the extra money for dessert, but he sure as hell didn't remember not being able to order anything at all. But, then again, just because _he_ always got to order something that didn't mean it was the same for Dean and for all that Dean wasn't actually saying anything, he was kind of implying...

Oh.

They'd been on their own for a lot of meals and Dean always-

A honk of the horn startled Sam out of his train of thought. "Hey, princess, you coming or what?" Dean shouted as he started up the car and Sam realized he'd been standing in front of the car door like an idiot for a good minute or two.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Keep your shirt on," he shot back automatically, carefully not looking at Dean as he settled into his seat. For all that he thought he knew everything about his brother, obviously some things had slipped past him. He was going to have to do something about that, but for now, back to work. "So," he began, "I was doing some research and I think there's something two counties over we need to check out."


End file.
